


Highways and Broken Hearts

by TwistLimeGreen72



Category: Leverage
Genre: Gen, Jicama Plum Stout, Oklahoma, Season 5 Episode 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 05:17:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7209359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistLimeGreen72/pseuds/TwistLimeGreen72
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story of paths chosen, regrets and finding home no matter where that may be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Highways and Broken Hearts

Xxxxx

Prologue

Eliot backed his way through the double kitchen doors of the Brew Pub. Turning as they snapped closed behind him, he made his way around the bar and into the noisy main room. He was headed for the back room at Leverage Portland Branch Headquarters, as Hardison called it. A tray of food and drinks rested in his hands, a dark blue bandana wrapped around his head so he wouldn't get hair in the lunch he'd just prepared for his friends. It was a new dish he'd made to accompany Hardison's latest brew.

They had just finished up a job at a winery six days ago, and afterward, Nate announced they were going to take a week or so off. They almost always took time off after the bigger, more violent jobs and really, this one hadn't been bad, but they had gone from one job to the next over the last few months so a break was in order.

And in Eliot's case, much needed.

After he returned from Oklahoma several weeks ago, he hadn't wanted a break. The easiest way for him to deal with what he had found there was just let life go on as normal. But when Nate said they were taking a break, Eliot found he was ready for some quiet time.

He used some of the down time to do something he had wanted to do since the team relocated to Portland. Steelhead fishing on the upper Columbia River. He drove over near La Grande, backpacked up river and spent four days fishing and sleeping under the stars. He relished being alone and the quiet that came with it and part of him hadn't wanted to come back, but it had also been bittersweet.

Way back, his father and him had had a good father son relationship, back before his mom died and life had changed for them all. His mom had always been the nurturing and compassionate one who made everything better with a plate of chocolate chip cookies and smile.

His father was an avid outdoorsmen when Eliot was young and fishing had been one of his favorite pastimes. He had taken Eliot and his brother Andy out fishing every weekend during the season when they were kids. Those were some of his fondest memories. His dad always talked about wanting to fish steelhead on the Columbia River; it was one of the top rated fly fishing rivers in the world. A love of fishing was one of the things Eliot had inherited from his dad, along with his blue eyes and stubborn temperament.

He would like to think his father had made it out here to fish the Columbia, but Eliot highly doubted it. His dad had served two tours in Vietnam, but after he returned, Jack Spencer had never ventured more than a state away from Oklahoma. He highly doubted that his father ever traveled any further after he was gone. That was a part of the issues between them. Eliot had eventually grown to want to see other parts of the world. When he was a kid, and his mom was alive, he couldn't imagine ever leaving or living anywhere else. After she died that had began to change. Maybe it had changed because she died or maybe it would have even if she lived, he didn't know, but it had happened nonetheless.

He had first started to seriously think about joining the Army or striking off on his own around the time he graduated. He had always had a certain restlessness to his personality. He couldn't sit still, but in the summer of 1992 he decided he needed to do something. He was just out of school and it had seemed like everyone was headed off somewhere else. His girlfriend was attending college in Ithaca, New York and his best friend was heading off to Old Alabama on a football scholarship. He didn't really want to go to school. The Army had seemed like a good way for a small town boy from western Oklahoma do it.

When he'd brought it up to his old man, it had still been only a possibility. He hadn't really made up his mind and he knew his dad would be angry. An argument ensued. He told Eliot he was a stupid young fool for wanting to join the Army and that he wouldn't find greener grass no matter where he went. The Spencer temper had gotten in the way after that and they had both said words you couldn't easily take back.

Eliot loaded a few things in his old beat up blazer and left that night.

He'd spent so much time being angry with his father, he hadn't realized he was only trying to protect him. It had taken him longer still to realize that he was way more like him than he was like his mother. That made it impossible for him to see his father was only trying to protect him.

If Sarah Spencer had lived, she would have made him see that and most likely pointed out how much alike they were.

He couldn't help but wonder if he had swallowed his pride and gone back sooner, if he could have mended fences and maybe have taken that trip with his dad, instead of alone and when it was too late. He shoved the thoughts aside and the feelings of regret that came with them.

It was one of those in-between times of day. The one between lunch and dinner so the customers were sparse. Even so, there were far more people present now than in the first few months after Hardison first opened at this time of day. Just to irritate him, Eliot told Hardison the reason the place had picked up business in the last few months was solely because of the menu he had personally designed. He stuck firmly to that, just to ruffle Hardison's tail feather's, but that wasn't exactly true. His friend had some odd ideas about flavor pairings in general, but people seemed to like whatever off the wall thing Hardison came up with. Like his latest concoction.

Jicama Plum Stout.

When Hardison had first started going on about his latest brew Eliot had hoped that he'd heard him wrong. A jicama was a Mexican radish. He knew there was a vodka made from radishes, but who in the hell would put radish into any kind of ale or lager, let alone plums and radishes into the same beverage. Unfortunately, he had heard Hardison right. And honestly, he really wasn't surprised.

It hadn't been easy, but he had finally come up with food that would compliment the Stout and would sell on the menu.

Grilled corn and mango salsa, served over flank steak, with red quinoa and that's what he carried as he stepped into the back room, minus the stout. He knew the Brew Pub customers seemed to like it, but Eliot personally couldn't stomach the stuff. As Sophie had said it was an acquired taste.

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Note: In the beginning this was only meant to be a short one-shot with a tag for season 5 episode 13 and Hardison's Jicama Plum Stout, but apparently I can't write season five Eliot after the Low Low Price job and not think about how he would feel after he went to Oklahoma. So, the one-shot turned into more of a character study turned story. I don't know how many chapter this will be or where it will end up, exactly, but I hope I do him justice. Really, the life Eliot may lead outside of the role of Hitter is interesting to me also.
> 
> Hence fly fishing on the Columbia.
> 
> The title comes from the Eli Young Band song. In ways it seemed fitting.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all liked this and thanks for reading! Let me know what y'all think!


End file.
